Chapter Seventeen – The Curse Awakens
1103 Words
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Chapter Seventeen – The Curse Awakens
Lyra POV
The forest grew colder the farther she walked.
It wasn’t the kind of cold born of winter; it was older, deeper — a frost that whispered under the skin. Her wolf paced restlessly inside her chest, claws scraping, every sense sharpening as if preparing for a fight it couldn’t yet see.
The silver stream she’d left behind was long gone now, swallowed by mist and shadow. Trees rose black and endless, their branches interlaced like ribs. The air hummed with a low vibration, almost too faint to hear, but steady enough to make her heart stutter in time.
This is wrong, her wolf hissed. This is not our land.
Lyra stopped, breathing hard, her hand on the dagger at her hip. She’d been walking north since leaving Ashveil, driven by something she couldn’t name. Now, she realized, it wasn’t her legs moving at all. It was something else pulling.
The memory of the silver-eyed man flickered — his words like ice on her skin: The curse has already begun to feed.
“Why me?” she whispered to the dark. “Why now?”
No answer came, only the hiss of wind through the dead leaves.
Then, faintly, a glow.
Lyra moved toward it, slow, wary. The trees opened into a small clearing, moonlight pouring down in a perfect circle. At its center stood a pool of water, black as glass. Mist curled above it like smoke.
The hum grew louder. Her wolf bristled. Don’t touch it.
But Lyra stepped closer anyway. The pool’s surface shimmered with faint images — not her reflection, but visions. Kael, on his knees in firelight. Eira’s pale hair shining. Blood on Ashveil’s walls.
And over it all, a shadow crowned with silver.
She stumbled back, heart hammering. The visions faded, but the hum remained, now inside her veins. She pressed her palm to her wrist, where the bond mark had once burned. It pulsed faintly, glowing silver under her skin.
A voice — low, resonant — slid through the clearing like smoke.
It has begun.
Her breath caught. “Who’s there?”
The mist shifted. He appeared again — the man from the stream, cloaked in black and silver, his eyes like molten moonlight.
“You,” she whispered.
He inclined his head. “Me.”
“What is this?”
“The curse.” His voice was calm, but there was no warmth in it. “It stirs now because you stirred it. Because you were bound to the wrong Alpha. Because you defied the Moon’s will and in doing so, touched something older.”
Her wolf snarled. “I didn’t choose this.”
“You chose to fight for him.” His gaze sharpened. “And now the price has found you.”
Lyra’s hands trembled. “What price?”
“The bond between you and Ashveil’s Alpha isn’t severed,” he said quietly. “It’s fraying. And as it frays, it unravels the magic that sealed something far worse. The longer you run, the stronger it becomes.”
Images flickered again — Kael’s eyes turning silver, his claws raking stone, wolves scattering.
Her chest constricted. “Kael.”
He stepped closer, shadows curling around his boots. “If you want him to survive, you’ll come to me before the moon wanes. Or watch him tear his own pack apart.”
The air pulsed once, like a heartbeat. Then he was gone.
Only the mist remained.
Lyra stood alone in the clearing, shaking, the pool still black as glass.
Her wolf whispered, low and certain. This is the Lycan King.
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Kael POV
Ashveil smelled of iron and smoke.
He sat in the war room long after the others had left, hands braced on the table, claws digging into the wood. His wolf prowled just beneath the surface, restless, furious, clawing to get out.
He’d shifted after the fire. He shouldn’t have.
Because now it wouldn’t go back.
Every time he forced his body into man-shape, the beast lingered — silver eyes, sharpened claws, a hunger in his chest that wasn’t his. His warriors had started to look at him differently. Some with fear. Some with something worse.
Dorian entered without knocking. Only he would dare. “You didn’t sleep.”
Kael didn’t look up. “I don’t sleep anymore.”
Dorian stepped closer, his voice low. “It’s the bond. Whatever’s happening to her… it’s bleeding into you.”
Kael’s jaw clenched. “She’s gone. This isn’t her.”
“Then what is it?” Ronan demanded. “Because right now, Alpha, you’re losing yourself.”
Kael’s claws gouged the table. He forced his hands into fists, nails biting his palms until blood welled. “Get out.”
“Not until you tell me what’s happening.”
Kael’s wolf surged — a growl tore from his throat, low and dangerous. For a heartbeat, his vision narrowed, silver bleeding into the edges. He saw Ronan not as a brother-in-arms but as prey.
He slammed his fist into the table, splintering it.
Dorian didn’t move. “She saved your life, Kael. And you sent her away. Now you’re paying for it. Stop pretending this isn’t about her.”
Kael’s breath came ragged. He turned away, pressing a hand to his face. “She’s not mine.”
Dorian’s eyes softened, just a fraction. “Maybe not by fate. But she was yours by choice. And the Moon never forgives what we throw away.”
Kael said nothing. His wolf paced, snarling. Outside, thunder rolled low across the valley, though the sky was clear.
Somewhere in the distance, he swore he heard a howl.
Not of pain.
Of warning.
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Lyra POV
The clearing was empty now, but the echo of the Lycan King’s words followed her as she stumbled back into the trees. Her wolf’s fur bristled beneath her skin, caught between fight and flight.
She pressed her hand to her heart. The bond mark pulsed again — silver, faint, but stronger than before.
Kael.
She closed her eyes. For a heartbeat, she felt him — not his mind, but his rage, his wolf clawing against its cage. The sound of splintering wood. The smell of smoke.
Her eyes flew open.
She’d left to save him. But the curse was dragging him under anyway.
The Lycan King’s voice echoed once more in her head: Before the moon wanes.
She stared north, where the trees thickened into a wall of shadow.
And for the first time since she’d left Ashveil, she knew exactly where she had to go.
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- Writer
